


Strange Attractors

by entanglednow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow





	Strange Attractors

John's used to waking up and finding Sherlock at the centre of a whirlwind of books and papers. Brain already in third gear, before John has even worked out what day it is. So he leaves him half-buried in his nest of intellect at the desk, and goes to make a cup of tea.

When he gets back Sherlock is pouting, one of his books is opened up so far the spine has obviously cracked.

John leans over his shoulder and pokes at what he has spread out in front of him. It doesn't take him long to get the general gist of it. If he's honest with himself, he really should have expected this before now.

"Sherlock, have you been subjecting our relationship to some sort of experimental analysis?"

Sherlock stops writing, shoulders tensing. John can just see the edge of his mouth go thin.

"Not good?"

John slides a piece of paper out from under the others. Though it's no more helpful when he turns it the right way.

"Not bad, exactly. I don't think." John takes a minute to drink tea that's still a fraction too hot. "I suppose you wouldn't be you if you didn't subject things to analysis. That's your thing."

"It's proving to be surprisingly unhelpful," Sherlock complains.

"Ah," John says. Though he isn't really surprised. He might, in fact, be a little relieved. It would be depressing if their relationship could be broken into bits and pieces that made sense. He's become attached to the way they don't make sense. Though he thinks maybe he understands why Sherlock's so irritated by it. He'll probably accuse John of being an unpredictable anomaly any minute now.

He leans over further, poking two pieces of paper apart. There's a time-line, and there's an awful lot of frustrated red pen on it.

"You're trying to plot the end of our relationship," John guesses.

"Not so much the end point, as the factors that lead to it. The point at which it becomes inevitable."

John thinks about that for a minute. Then tries to think about it like _Sherlock._

But Sherlock's already tossing paper aside.

"There are too many factors to consider, and I can't avoid a certain amount of bias, considering I'm a variable."

John smiles into his tea. "It's so difficult when you're a variable."

Sherlock glares at him over his shoulder. "You're making fun of me."

John nods. "Yes, yes, I am."

"I fail to see how this is funny," Sherlock says irritably.

"We appear to have reached the 'where is this relationship going' stage. You're handling it better than I thought you would."

John pats him on the shoulder.

"I'll make you some toast."


End file.
